


As your lips ghost over mines

by MochiUs



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Time Travel, ghost!murasakibara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 20:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12140796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MochiUs/pseuds/MochiUs
Summary: Kiyoshi Teppei is a normal man with lots of love to give, except for the fact that he can see ghosts.





	As your lips ghost over mines

**Author's Note:**

> This is a submission for the team battle I'm currently in (mind fuck-time travel). This is also a thank you fic for Remy. I hope you enjoyed this!

As long as he could remember, Kiyoshi Teppei had the uncanny ability to see and communicate with ghosts from the afterlife. One would often find him loitering around graveyards, greeting the dead with a good-natured smile as if he was visiting his relatives. Unfortunately, that statement was not too far from the truth. A couple of years ago his grandparents passed away due to old age, leaving him by his lonesome, but destiny had other plans for the young man and bestowed him a companion when he least expected it.

Murasakibara slowly raised his head as he heard soft laughter coming from the front door. Even though he was under a spell of lethargy, he willed himself to float towards the entrance to greet the man he was currently haunting. He could hear the jingle of keys until a clear click notified him that the door was finally unlocked.

Kiyoshi opened the door and hurriedly slipped off his shoes as if he couldn’t wait being in his ghostly presence. His eyes roamed around the room until they stopped on his transparent form. He greeted him with a beaming smile.

“Hello Atsushi,” he says in that pleasant voice Murasakibara secretly enjoyed. “How are you?”

This routine has been going on for three years, not that Murasakibara was counting or anything ridiculous and tiring like that. He has priorities of course, such as lazing around the room and racking up the electricity bill while watching some television, but he is no fool. Although the thoughts of disappearing from this realm occasionally crept into his darkest thoughts, he pushed them away in favor of this happy, little bubble the two of them have together. It may eventually burst, but he doesn’t care.

Like always, he said, “I’m hungry.”

* * *

“You can time travel on your own, Teppei.”

The mug Kiyoshi was nursing in hands almost slipped through his fingers. He accidentally slammed it onto the table and rose up in haste, not minding the terrible screech coming from his chair.

 “I can?” he asked with teeming excitement.

Riko Aida raised one eyebrow at the obvious display of eagerness. Riko Aida was an individual just like Kiyoshi. Although they were about the same age, her level of training and experience in spiritual clairvoyance was more advanced and solidified compared to Kiyoshi’s casual dabble into the spirit world. They met at a funeral one day, and after Riko recognized his hidden potential, she swept him off his feet and had him under her tutelage. She revealed the many capabilities they had with their powers, but for some odd reason, Kiyoshi centered his focus on their ability to time travel.

The woman was not an idiot. She could smell trouble a mile away, but before she could dissuade him on the matter, she was forced to shut up after one glance into those burning, passionate eyes.

This was a man on a mission. This was a man who was willing to walk through the depths of hell to achieve his goal. She could have delayed him farther than what she intended, but his conviction was so strong and impenetrable, there was no turning back.

“Yes, you can,” she said, unable to hide the concern laced in her words.

She gave him one last warning.

“Teppei…”

Kiyoshi tensed as she called his name. They have talked about this subject too many times. There is no point in beating the horse to death. “Aida, you don’t understand-”

“Is it worth it?” she cuts in.

She pursed her lips as if she wanted to say more, but she knows that her advice would simply fall on deaf ears. She can feel the tear ducts working their magic, but she has to save face. She has to ensure that Kiyoshi won’t have regrets.

Her lips trembled as she specified her question. “Is he worth it?”

“Yes,” he said. “He is.”

* * *

Kiyoshi remembered of a much simpler time before the option of time travel was available to him. There once was a time when the purple giant would markedly ignore him at all costs with the occasional pranks to spite him. Their first meeting was short and anticlimactic. Their first few weeks together were silent and disinteresting, which is why he still remembered when Murasakibara initiated their first actual, civil conversation. This conversation was during a time before he gained something more than the innocuous, benign feelings of friendship for the ghost. 

“I crushed a kid.”

Kiyoshi was in the midst of scarfing down his bento before he heard Murasakibara’s confession, choked on his spit and hacked out the contents from his overstuffed mouth. Murasakibara, the undeniable shit that he is, did not hand him a napkin.

The poor, suffocating man had to rush to nearest sink to wipe his mouth and clean up the damage. Murasakibara gazed at his departing form with indifference.

A few minutes passed, and Kiyoshi finally returned to his side with a damp towel and a refreshed expression. His dopey grin irks Murasakibara to no end. If he could, he would have pressed his thumbs into his fat, bushy brows and creased them until his action wrecked his image.

“Would you…” Kiyoshi trailed his words as he leaned over Murasakibara’s direction, “Care to elaborate?”

“I played basketball and injured a player from the opposing team.” He paused. “I elbowed into his eye socket.” He tapped his chin as if he was contemplating another fact. “Not sure if I partially blinded him, though.”

He said it so plainly that Kiyoshi was not entirely sure if he felt remorse over the incident. In addition, crushing a kid does not equate to a basketball injury.

Murasakibara continued, “Then when I was walking back to my bus, I saw that same kid crossing the street.”

A flash of emotions crossed his expression, but they were too quick for Kiyoshi to decipher them.

“A car was approaching his way, and he didn’t see it.”

Kiyoshi could predict what was next but needed to hear it.

“I pushed his stupid ass out of the way and got hit instead. I died on impact.” He let out a derisive laugh. “That’s karma, I guess.”

Even though this is an issue Kiyoshi should tread carefully, everything doesn’t add up. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I’ve met many people like you,” he sneered. “In order to rest peacefully,” his hands made quotation marks as he said this, “I have to accept the cause of my death and leave with no regrets. So tell me…” His sharp gaze looked as if it could penetrate into his soul. “What do I have to do to move on?”

Without missing a beat, Kiyoshi shrugged with a goofy smile, “I don’t know.”

And in that moment, Murasakibara had never felt so tempted to crush a man in his life.

* * *

“Get the strawberry and green tea ones.”

Kiyoshi scrambled to fish out his wallet, but Murasakibara is a merciless bastard whenever sweets are involved. Without a second to spare, he continued to fire off his orders even though his companion forgot half of his requests.

Murasakbara hovered over to another section of the display, pointing at more desserts. “Also don’t forget the chocolate mousse and the crème brûlée and…”

Kiyoshi had to put his foot down. “Atsushi,” he said firmly, “Slow down. I’m the only one who can see and hear your ridiculous requests.”

“But Tecchin,” Murasakibara whined, “You rarely come to the bakery.”

The shorter male sighed and relented. “You can’t even eat these sweets. I’m the one who has to finish them. Please have some consideration.”

Despite his words, Kiyoshi still bought them in the end. Although his ghostly friend could not consume the pastries, he would often ask him to describe each sugary morsel in explicit detail. After paying, the two exited the bakery with smiles on their faces with Kiyoshi carrying an overstuffed bag and Murasakibara eyeing the treats as if they were Christmas presents. The smell of cinnamon and caramel wafted in the air and tickled Kiyoshi’s nose.

A pang of sadness curled in his gut. Not too long ago his friend mentioned his dreams and goals, his aspirations of becoming a world-renowned pâtissier. Kiyoshi glanced at Murasakibara and caught the longing in his forlorn eyes. His heart clenched at the sight and yearned to comfort those sad, sad eyes. However, just like his friend, those ambitions had already died and were left to rot.

“Tecchin,” Murasakibara’s voice penetrated his thoughts.

Kiyoshi did a slight jump. “Huh?”

“Tell me what the strawberry macarons taste like.”

Kiyoshi blinked.

Then he blinked some more until he finally understood.

“Ah! You’re right! My bad, my bad.”

He flustered over his delayed response and quickly picked out the pink-colored cookie. Murasakibara observed him with a fond look. His forehead creased in concentration as he reached his hand out and ruffled Kiyoshi’s brown locks. Most of the time, his hand would pass through unless he focused hard enough.

Kiyoshi ignored his own reddening cheeks and popped the macaron into his mouth. He slowly chewed, allowing the flavors and texture to melt in his mouth. He hummed in thoughtfulness. The macaron wasn’t half bad. Maybe he would buy a mocha-flavored one if they were available.

“It’s like… walking into the strawberry fields of France.”

Murasakibara wrinkled his nose at the dumb description. “You’ve never been to France.”

“I haven’t, but if I did, it would have been exactly that.”

Murasakibara rolled his eyes.

Kiyoshi continued. “There is an initial tang when you bite into it.” His tongue peeked out and swiped over his lips. Murasakibara had to tell himself that he wasn’t captivated by the movement. “It’s sweet of course, but the cream is light and fluffy. The feeling I get from eating this macaron is walking through a field barefoot. The smell of strawberries is overpowering, but it doesn’t take away the overall taste.”

“You didn’t explain how they’re related to France.”

Kiyoshi evaded that tidbit.

“Your explanations are ridiculous,” Murasakibara complained.

“But you like them,” he teased.

“I don’t.”

He did.

* * *

Kiyoshi was too afraid to tell Murasakibara about his newfound time travel capabilities. He was scared. He was too cowardly to confront the elephant in the room because he knew. He knew that Murasakibara would rather stay here as a ghost than to be alive and never met him at all, which is why Kiyoshi had to be the bigger man, why he had to make the hardest decision.

On the night before his departure, he glued himself to the specter and snuggled close to him all night. He peppered kisses all over Murasakibara’s face even though the man couldn’t feel them. His large hands roamed over his transparent form even though the man couldn’t feel their heat.

Murasakibara broke their kiss and softly pushed against his boyfriend’s chest. He pursed his lips as he concentrated on that small action.

“What’s the matter?” he murmured.

There was a sense of urgency in his lover’s kisses, and although the male is content with the attention, alarm bells were ringing in his head. His fingers reached for Kiyoshi’s bangs and parted them to the side before he pressed a chaste peck on his forehead.

“I missed you,” Kiyoshi replied.

“You always miss me,” Murasakibara countered back.

And I’ll always miss you once you’re gone, Kiyoshi bitterly thought. He pressed a firmer kiss against his lover’s lips and allowed the cold presence to envelop his being.

“I wanted to be closer to you,” he said instead.

“You’re avoiding the subject.”

“Tell me you love me.”

“No.”

Kiyoshi wore an exasperated look. “Please?”

“You’re acting childish,” Murasakibara ironically pointed out.

“I spoil you all the time,” Kiyoshi softly laughed. “Can’t you spoil me for once tonight?”

Although Murasakibara so badly wanted to call this gesture cute, uneasiness began to settle into his core. Concerned, he caressed Kiyoshi’s brows with his thumbs and stared deep into his mesmerizing eyes. Then Kiyoshi mirrored his expression.

Murasakibara descended down and gave him an all-encompassing kiss, with little nips to his lower lip. A growl escaped, but he pushed further and further until he left Kiyoshi Teppei breathless and loved. This man is his world. This man is his heart. Screw forbidden love. This man is his and only his.

“I love you,” he said. “I love you Kiyoshi Teppei.”

“You softie,” Kiyoshi said with a cracked voice. “I love you, too.”

Murasakibara smiled. If he was alive here and now, he was pretty sure his heart would be beating rapidly. For now, he is satisfied with Kiyoshi’s heart, stuttering beneath his palm.

“Promise me, Tecchin,” he said. “I won’t force you, but promise me you’ll tell me what’s bothering you in the future.”

His gaze was fierce and passionate. Kiyoshi almost faltered at that look.

However, he is strong and curved his red, swollen lips. “I will,” he said.

He won’t.

* * *

Kiyoshi made his journey and opened his eyes to the sunset. Then he internally laughed at the image before him. There were rainbow-colored heads sticking out like a sore thumb, but his eyes zoned in on the violet-colored one. A traitorous thought supplied how cute Murasakibara looked during middle school. Beyond the huddled group was a teenager with a patch on his left eye who was crossing the street with hunched shoulders. The young boy did not notice the convertible hurtling toward him.

Kiyoshi didn’t hesitate. “Watch out!” he screamed as he rushed forward.

He sprinted past Murasakibara’s friends and slammed against the injured boy’s smaller frame in the nick of time. The car almost clipped his side, but he was lucky. In the end, he achieved his goal. He had rewritten time. He saved this kid’s life.

Most importantly, Murasakibara is going to stay alive.

He ran away before there was a commotion. He didn’t even stick around to hear the teen’s words of thanks. He searched for the nearest, isolated alley and hid there with his hands clamping onto the walls. He was gasping for breath, both from the near-death experience but also from the inevitable.

Truthfully, he could have enjoyed his time with Murasakibara and postponed this time for another day, but he knew himself too well. His heart would have wavered if he stayed with the ghost any longer.

He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He waited for an opening, and once he felt the shift, he moved forward. Time was changing, and he embraced it wholeheartedly. Time was like a wave, harshly crashing into his body, but he accepted it. He allowed time to flow until he found himself landing upon his apartment room.

Placed next to his feet was the newspaper he bought and left before he made a trip through time to ensure he returned to the correct timeline. He was back to the present. He was back to an empty room.

The silence that greeted him was heavy. Kiyoshi clenched his fists. He had to be brave.

“Atsushi?” he hollowly called out. “I’m home.”

Nobody answered.

With that, Kiyoshi crumpled to the floor and choked out a sob. Hot tears escaped from his eyes and blurred his vision. His chest heaved back and forth as he cried out his pain. The sorrow left him paralyzed; the loneliness crippled him like no other. He miserably punched against the ground, punishing himself for feeling the slightest hint of regret.

If Murasakibara was here, he probably would have said something demeaning like how gross and snotty he looked. Thinking about his beloved only made him feel worse.

He did the right thing, he told himself. It was the right thing to do.

* * *

Life moved on, and Kiyoshi continued to live life despite his heartbreaking sacrifice. He had to, he supposed, or he would be inadvertently smearing Murasakibara’s existence. He grasped onto the hope that time heals all wounds, but at this point, he is beginning to doubt that.

He was running an errand for Riko and ended up at Akita. Initially, the young woman was upset over his foolhardy decision, but she eventually forgave him and worked him to the bone. The distraction was welcoming, and Kiyoshi pooled all his efforts into helping the dead move on instead of dwelling over the past.

However, he was still a fool and forgot to bring gloves.

“It’s cold,” he said and fervently rubbed his hands against each other. The friction was slightly working, but it wasn’t a furnace.

“I should have asked for directions earlier,” he reprimanded himself but continued to smile good-naturedly. He was humming a classical tune before he heard a familiar voice.

“Muro-chiiiiiin, I’m huuuuuungry.”

The voice sounded deeper and lower, but Kiyoshi would recognize those dragged out words from anywhere. His childish voice was still considered adorable in Kiyoshi’s personal dictionary. He turned his head toward the source and widened his eyes.

“Atsushi…” he whispered under his breath.

Relatively ten feet away from him was Murasakibara in the flesh with another guy beside him. Even though Kiyoshi had the undeniable urge to dash into his arms, he’s not stupid. This Murasakibara doesn’t know him, hasn’t met him yet. In addition, he has a friend walking by his side. They seem to be classmates from afar due to their matching uniforms. A lump formed in his throat.

Meeting Murasakibara doesn’t mean he’ll immediately get his happy ending. That would be too naïve and presumptuous. He’s not even sure if the Murasakibara before him has a boyfriend or girlfriend.

He must have been dozing off too long because Murasakibara’s friend accidentally bumped against his shoulder as they passed him.

“Ah! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Kiyoshi laughed nervously at their sudden encounter. “No worries,” he said. “It’s my fault for not paying attention.”

“Seriously, Muro-chin. Hurry up and give me my snacks,” Murasakibara demanded.

Suddenly Kiyoshi couldn’t swallow his saliva because the feeling of Murasakibara disregarding him hurt too much.

“Be patient, Atsushi,” his friend chastised him and baited him with a snack from his pocket.

Then he switched over to Kiyoshi and made a graceful bow. “I apologize for my friend’s rudeness. Please excuse me.”

Kiyoshi waved his hand to tell the young man not to worry but stopped midway. He froze as he noticed Murasakibara staring into his soul.

A look of confusion crossed his beautiful face. “Do I know you?”

This is it, Kiyoshi told himself. He could tell him the crazy truth. They could finally date together and kiss as much as they want.

However…

“No, we don’t,” Kiyoshi gave him a pinched smile. “Perhaps you’re mistaking me for somebody else.”

Then, just like what he has been doing for the past couple years, he moved on, but as mentioned beforehand, destiny already had plans for the young man.

“Ah, I remember you now.”

Before he was out of earshot, he heard those remarkable words and turned around. Murasakibara stood there, smirking.

“I remember you now... Tecchin.”

 


End file.
